


your love is sunlight

by thelittlebirdthattoldyou



Series: iwaoi birthdays 2020 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon Compliant, Discussions of marriage, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, happy birthday iwa-chan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlebirdthattoldyou/pseuds/thelittlebirdthattoldyou
Summary: Hajime wakes up to sunlight streaming through the window and a face full of soft brown hair.Tooru,he thinks.It's Iwaizumi's birthday, and they have a talk about the future.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: iwaoi birthdays 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781584
Comments: 21
Kudos: 194





	your love is sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> rated for language (thanks iwa) and mentions of sex (thanks oikawa)
> 
> july 19, 2020: edited to be canon-compliant with chapter 402.

Hajime wakes up to the sun streaming through his window and a face full of soft brown hair.

 _Tooru,_ he thinks, inhaling the sweet notes of the mint shampoo that’s so familiar to him. He’s always liked the smell of it. At the risk of sounding too sappy, it reminds him of their days at Aoba Johsai together, when they were still on the same team and had the same friends. It’s a time in his life that he’ll always treasure.

He wraps his arms tighter around his boyfriend’s middle, pressing their bodies flush together chest-to-back. He tucks his cheek into the crook of Oikawa’s neck and starts to drift back to sleep.

Except. His eyes fly open, and he frowns. Oikawa isn’t supposed to be here. Hajime went to bed alone last night in his university dorm, and to the best of his knowledge, Oikawa had done the same thousands of miles away in Argentina.

Hajime presses an open-mouthed kiss to the back of Oikawa’s neck. “Hey,” he murmurs, “how’d you get here?”

Oikawa squirms against him like he's trying to sink into his embrace and get away at the same time. “Mmh. Tickles, Iwa,” he mumbles.

With a low chuckle, voice still rough with sleep, Hajime mouths at the creamy expanse of skin at his nape. Oikawa never bothers with a shirt in bed when it gets hot outside, and Hajime never tires of exploiting that fact. He sucks marks all the way down Oikawa’s neck, peppers soft kisses on the skin of his shoulder. Oikawa makes a low, satisfied noise, almost a purr. “Trashykawa,” Hajime says, the nickname having lost any semblance of annoyance long ago, “want to explain why you’re in my bed?”

“Warm,” is Oikawa’s only response. He burrows further into Hajime’s chest, apparently having decided that the shared body heat is worth the sacrifice of being assailed by kisses.

Hajime smiles. And promptly grabs the edge of the comforter and drags it off of Oikawa’s body, exposing him to the air conditioned room. He squawks and shoots upright. “Iwa-chan!”

Laughing, Hajime pulls him back down and drapes the blanket over him again. The cold air did its job, and he’s not in the business of making his boyfriend suffer any more than necessary. “Awake now, huh?”

“Thanks for that. So harsh! And after I came all this way to surprise you for your birthday.”

“Not much of a surprise if I’m not even awake, is it?”

Oikawa rolls over so that they’re both lying on their sides facing each other. “I wanted to get here before you came home from classes yesterday,” he admits. “I was going to buy you dinner on the way.”

Hajime makes a noise of contentment and vague interest. “Sounds nice.”

“Yeah.” Oikawa sighs. “Stupid flight was delayed, though, and you were already asleep when it got in.” He pouts, pushing out his bottom lip, and the familiar expression is so cute on him that a small tide of fondness wells up in Hajime’s chest. It makes Hajime want to kiss him, so he does, leans forward and brings their mouths together.

Oikawa melts into him, trying to deepen the kiss. As soon as he does, though, he makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and pulls away. “Gross, Iwa-chan,” he says. “Go brush your teeth before you kiss me again.”

“You’re not much better, Shittykawa.” Hajime flicks him on the forehead. Oikawa whines, but it’s more for show than anything because he proceeds to bury himself further into the sheets with a pleased hum. It’s good to see Oikawa so content. The last Skype session they had, he’d sounded stressed, homesick for Japan and burnt out from trying to juggle professional volleyball and late night cram sessions for English and Spanish. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual, the lines of his pretty face too tense for Hajime’s liking.

Hajime had tried to comfort him to the best of his ability, but there’s only so much even he can do when they’re so far apart. Now, the bags are still there, and his hair is a mess of bedhead, but otherwise he looks relaxed and happy. “Hey,” Hajime says. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Oikawa, flippant as usual, lifts his head to shoot Hajime a lascivious, over-the-top wink. His voice, when he speaks, is practically dripping innuendo. “Ah, Hajime always makes me feel good.”

Hajime rolls over, smothers his own face with a pillow, and groans into it. Partly to hide the faint blush spreading over his face, but also because after a lifetime spent together, he still can’t believe this is the brat he’s choosing to be with.

Oikawa is laughing like the immature child he is. He hoists himself up into a sitting position, cross-legged, and pokes Hajime in the side. “Sorry, Iwa-chan,” he says, sounding anything but. “Really, though. I mean it. You always know how to help me.”

“Of course I do, dumbass. I always will.” he grumbles into the pillow. Then he raises his head and flings it at Oikawa, watching as his boyfriend ducks to the side with a startled yelp. He must have heard what Hajime said, though, because his smile softens.

“That’s a promise, then. You’re not allowed to get tired of me, okay, Iwa-chan?”

That’s enough to startle Hajime into full awareness, and he sits up as well. Oikawa is still smiling, but there’s the slightest strain at the corners of it, the slightest tremor of worry in his voice. It cuts Hajime deep. He can’t stand it when his boyfriend doubts that he’s worth it, worth everything. Hajime would give him everything.

So he lifts one hand to cup Oikawa’s cheek, says, “I won’t. I’ve been here all this time, haven’t I? I’ve stayed, and it’s because I chose to. I’ll always choose you, Tooru.”

Oikawa starts blinking fast, and when he laughs, it comes out choked. “Wow, Iwa-chan. That was really romantic. Almost sounds like you’re proposing to me or something.”

Hajime sighs, relieved that he’s been reassured for the time being. “Don’t be dumb,” he says. “If I proposed in bed like this and you didn’t get to kiss me after because we haven’t brushed our teeth yet, you’d never forgive me.”

His laugh sounds steadier this time, and Hajime grins at him, stupidly relieved. He’s so far gone.

“Got that right. I deserve flowers and champagne,” Oikawa says. Then he leans into Hajime’s touch, into the hand still splayed over his cheek and jaw. “You would marry me, though, Iwa-chan? Really?”

Hajime clears his throat, flustered all of a sudden. He can’t look at Oikawa’s eyes, so he looks at the rest of him instead - the cute nose peppered with light freckles; the soft, full lips; the smooth expanse of his long neck and chest. “Well,” he says, “not now, obviously, but - yeah. I would.”

Oikawa doesn’t even take the opening to laugh at him for his bout of shyness. He just clasps Hajime’s free hand in his own and grins widely down at it. “Oh,” he breathes. “Iwa-chan, what a charmer.”

“Whatever.” Hajime rolls his eyes.

Oikawa glances up at him. “Don’t get grumpy,” he says. “I’d marry you, too. And we could finally live together, and I’d be famous, of course, and you’d be some boring trainer, and we could get a dog, too. I’ve always wanted one.”

He’s half-teasing, but Hajime’s throat constricts. All of that sounds really nice, actually, and he’s sure the wistfulness in his expression is obvious, because Oikawa bumps their knees together. “Hey, Hajime. We’re gonna get there, okay? Someday. Because I’m choosing you, too.”

Hajime leans in to kiss him. It’s just a chaste press of the lips, but Oikawa still wrinkles his nose, and Hajime loves it. Loves the way they’re sitting partly on top of each other because the dorm beds are too small, loves the way Oikawa’s hand feels wrapped around his, loves the way he’s backlit against the morning glow like an angel come to earth. Loves him.

And then Oikawa claps his hands together and shatters the hazy atmosphere, and Hajime isn’t even mad. “Okay, Iwa-chan. It’s -” He twists around and grabs his phone from the nightstand to check the time, “- almost ten-thirty. I called ahead to all your classes and told them you weren’t going to be there -”

“What?” Hajime doesn’t know whether he wants to hit him or laugh. “What did you do that for?”

“- so you don’t have to worry about that, but we should still get up soon. We can order takeout and watch all your dumb kaiju movies.” Oikawa beams at him, wide and innocent, so Hajime thinks he can be forgiven for being taken by surprise by the next words that come out of his mouth. “And then, when we finish, we can have really great birthday sex. For, like, _hours_.”

Hajime bursts out laughing. “Shittykawa,” he says, “is sex all you ever think about?”

He looks way too pleased with himself. “Of course not, Iwa-chan! I also think about crushing everyone else at volleyball. And how great of a boyfriend I am.”

“You are,” Hajime says. Because Oikawa is stupid and irresponsible and self-destructive sometimes, but he’s never taken it out on Hajime. And he remembers their phone calls every night no matter how tired he gets, and he plans surprise birthday visits that don’t work out, and Hajime knows for a fact that Oikawa’s San Juan teammates are tired to death of hearing him gush about their relationship. Damn it. He kind of really wants to marry this boy, now that they’ve brought it up.

He twines a lock of Oikawa’s hair around his finger. It’s soft to the touch. “Tooru,” he says. “Thank you for coming. I love you.”

His lips curl into a small smile, the most delicate one so far. It’s like watching a rare flower bloom. “I love you, too, Hajime.”

Hajime leans forward. Oikawa stops him when their faces are mere centimeters apart with a hand over his mouth. “Not yet, Iwa-chan,” he says. “I’m not having birthday sex with someone so sweaty and gross.”

He dances away from Hajime’s half-hearted swat and hops out of bed. He stands and stretches, body lean and toned and pale and a pair of boxers - are those Hajime’s? - riding low around his waist. Hajime stares at him in one part interest and two parts exasperation. He says, “Great job ruining the mood.”

But he acquiesces anyway and climbs out of bed and follows Oikawa to the bathroom. They brush their teeth together, one of his arms wrapped around Oikawa’s waist so that they’re each in the other’s space, having to reach around each other constantly, and Hajime is struck by the domesticity of it all. His heart aches to have this familiarity, this routine, every day. _One more year,_ he thinks. One year and they’ll be ready to start their lives together. Maybe they'll get an apartment together - Japan or Argentina or anywhere in between, maybe they'll adopt that dog. And Hajime will be certified to find work as an athletic trainer while Oikawa goes on to play on the international stage. And maybe - Hajime thinks about the screenshots of engagement rings he’s saved in a folder on his computer desktop, more out of curiosity than anything - maybe, they’ll get married.

One year.

For now, they stand in the cramped, shared bathroom of a university dorm, pressed side by side, and flick water at each other and laugh. When they’re done, Oikawa agrees to a kiss at last, and it tastes like spearmint and happiness and hope. Oikawa pulls away, the ghost of his breath still fanning over Hajime’s lips, and says, “Happy birthday, Hajime.”

And, well. Oikawa has promised that yes, he did bring a physical gift and it’s going to be great and Hajime will weep in awe at his gift-giving skills. But Hajime doesn’t think any present could top this: them, kissing in a sun-dappled bathroom, Oikawa’s skin warm under his hands, and the promise of a life together stretched out before them.

Happy birthday, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> there's a lot of focus on oiks here but what can i say ~~ iwaizumi deserves a good birthday and that means making his boyfriend happy.
> 
> anyway, this fic is useless fluff, as per my usual brand. however, i am working on a multi-chapter, alternate universe iwaoi that should be out sometime within the next week. so be on the lookout for that if you're interested in seeing something different from me!
> 
> title from "sunlight" by hozier.


End file.
